My Boat has a Sense of Humour

I designated last Saturday an official work-on-the-boat day.  Its amazing how I dread cleaning or fixing things in my apartment, but adore doing the same stuff on the boat.  Perhaps its because the boat is constantly swaying slightly so I get to feel a little drunk while simultaneously accomplishing something useful?

The ever trusty Miles had answered my plea for an electrician and agreed to try to figure out why the lights weren’t working even though the radio, on the same circuit board, was working.  He started looking at things electronical while I pawed through the starboard lazaret.  (Note: lazaret means both ‘a storage space between the decks of a ship’ and ‘a hospital for persons with infectious diseases, esp. leprosy.’  So, if any lepers come on my boat I now know where to keep them, or at least their parts)

I could have sworn that I emptied the lazaret upon buying the boat last year,  so the things I found in it were really surprising.  I knew I had an anchor because I’ve used it.  I didn’t know I had two anchors.  I really didn’t know I had three anchors, only one of which has line.  It kind of seems like overkill and makes me wonder if the boat is reproducing – this could be a way to pay for it - ”Anchors for sale, get your fresh anchors.”  There was also a tangle of ropes, not one piece of which could have been over 3 feet long, all of them frayed and useless.  What idjit bothered to keep these in the first place?  They’re gone now.  The bosun’s chair is now stored in the dock box, as is the most disreputable of the 3 anchors.  I also found the lazaret in possession of a really cool hook – its some sort of boat hook, but unlike any I’ve seen before.  The handle is pretty short and the hook itself is an actual … hook.  Someone who is 7 feet tall could use it as part of a pirate costume.

Since one of the spreader lights was working, we decided to check and see if the reason the running lights weren’t working was the light bulbs.  So we removed the green cover from the starboard running light (because being dockside it was the easiest to get to) and tried to pull out the bulb.  Unh unh.  That bulb came with the boat and wanted to go down with the boat.  Eventually, we got out the BFH and hit it until the glass part fell off, then used needle nosed pliers to pry the rest of the bulb out of the fixture in nasty corroded copper bits.  This may be an indication of why it wasn’t working.  We wire brushed out the fixture until we could see it, and then it looked okay.

This was all very exciting, but then Miles decided we actually needed supplies to continue with the electrics, so we made a list and headed to West Marine.   Upon return, armed with a voltmeter and new bulbs and stuff, it got weird.   Next time I have someone over to do stuff on the boat that I can’t, I’m going to wear earplugs, because it really scares me to hear, “Hmm,  that’s odd….  What the …?”

What he found was that he was measuring current through the circuit when the switch was off.  That’s not good.  But, at least the running lights were working with new light bulbs, which is good.  But the thing that is keeping me from staying overnight on her is the lack of cabin lights, so Miles moved on to that since the others were now working.  This is the weirdness:  Remove lightbulb, insert voltmeter probes  –>>  Voltmeter says 12 volts are coming through the light fixture.  OK, reinsert lightbulb –>> Nothing.  This would make you think its the light bulb, right?  Check light bulb with voltmeter –>> No resistance (that’s a good thing, says the light bulb is functional).  Try other light bulbs.  Nothing.  Try checking the fixture again, still 12 volts.   Huh???

I went out on deck as there was nothing I could do except be in the way and confused.  Miles sticks his head out and says, “Its working now.”  I say, “Great!  What did you do?”  “Uh, nothing, its just working.”  A minute later, he says, “Now its not.”  But then a bit later it started working again and still is.  So, I have reached the conclusion that this truly is my boat, we were destined to be together, because just like me, the Indian Summer thinks its really funny to be annoying.